And After it's Broken
by Kutasan
Summary: A one-shot sequel to Lleu's Time Loop, written with his permission. What happens after the time loop breaks?


And here we go, the one-shot sequel to Time Loop, done with the original authors (Lleu) permission. I've given this a shit ton of thought and I realized that this would be a bit less focused on the main character Charles' perspective, rather, I'm gonna try to tell the story of the aftermath of the fall of Chaos and how relationships bear out once his being aware and conscious of the time loop came to be known to the rest of the group. Though that bit will be quick. And then there'll be a time skip and other stuff will happen.

Disclaimer: I don't own FF1 or any other copyrighted material that may pop up in any of my fics.

* * *

As Charles stormed away from the group and set about attempting to find a way to get them all back to their proper time, George looked at Christopher and martin in stunned disbelief.

"He... he must remember it all..." George gasped out.

Martin picked up after him. "Every last iteration of that time loop... It's why he always knew where to go, what to do, how to go about doing it..."

Christopher, white as a sheet, continued from there, voice shaky and uneven. "The stress... He must have tried to end this so many times, in so many ways... The seeming hopelessness of trying to kill a god must have been... Torturous."

Charles called out to them then. "Right, since leaving you useless lot here would probably start-up another fucking time loop, get over here. I can get us home now." His voice was clipped and impatient, as it had always been with regards to them.

Or had it? Had he, at one point, been a true friend to them, rather than some enigmatic white wizard who guided them through perils? Had he, some time in his distant past, shared jokes with Martin or traded nuances of mage-lore with Christopher? Had George perhaps once given him tips on how to fight so well with that small dagger he carried?

These thoughts swirled in their minds as they moved towards Charles, possibly for the last time given that he seemed thoroughly fed up with their company. He might have been a close comrade at one point... And now... But how could they convince him to give up the truth about such a sensitive topic, given that they were now not even truly comrades anymore let alone friends?

That was when the room lit up with a blinding flash and they found themselves outside of the Temple, facing it's doors once more. Charles was sitting down, seeming to meditate.

"Hey, Charles?" Christopher called out tentatively. "I, I've meant to ask you for a while now..."

Charles threw him a scathing look, obviously upset at being interrupted at whatever it was he was doing. "I do _not _wish to speak with you, _any_ of you. Leave me to my meditation. To my contemplation of the one thing that I can still find joy in." He brought his hands up and summoned a ball of healing energy. Then he stared at it, not paying anything any mind anymore.

The others tried to drag him from his contemplative state, to no avail. The only words he reacted to were 'magic', 'Sarah', 'Chaos' and his own name, though he barely reacted and the reactions dropped off a little more each time. They were unable to even get him to react to the princess' presence, once they'd thought to try to use her to get him out of his self-induced, meditative coma.

And eventually, they stopped trying. Martin went on to become a somewhat famous archaeological treasure hunter, bringing excavation teams to ruins so that they might plunder them.

George fell in love with the princess and she with him, and they were married after a traditional three month long courtship. They ruled the kingdom fairly, with a just and firm hand, working towards a future where men like Garland would be unable to be twisted as he had been. They named their first born son after the man who had saved the world through his single minded determination to release the world from the clutches of a mad god.

Christopher went back to Lufenia to study there, to attempt to find some way to reach Charles mind through his focus. He would eventually fail, die trying as it were. But he never resented it, he would be put on record as having said that if he couldn't free his mentor then he'd never deserved to be his pupil. This would come to be known as the quote that had given rise to the practice of training pupils in magic to the ultimate end of having them surpass you.

* * *

A number of centuries later, a young man would walk towards the Temple of Fiends, unsure of what to expect from the place. He had merely been told that there would be someone there who would test his worth. This young man, named Charlemagne for the man who had saved the world as was tradition for the first born sons of his family, walked with a feeling of slight foreboding. Only the royal family was permitted near the temple. It was said to be a place of power and that those of a non-royal lineage who attempted to approach were struck down by the wrath of God himself.

Cresting the hill upon which the temple lay, Charlemagne bore witness to an incredibly old man observing a glowing ball of power. The mans beard and hair sprawled around him, unkempt and wild, seemingly having not been combed for years. His wrinkled skin and sunken eyes gave off the air of a man who had born witness to the passing of centuries.

Charlemagne was wary of this old sage, for what else could so old and obviously magically powerful a man be but a wizened sage? Would the sage test him in some illusory world, in an attempt to find his true character? Or perhaps read his mind during a series of probing questions to determine his true preferences as a ruler?

As the sage looked up towards him Charlemagne opened his mouth to speak, but the man cut him off, seeming to look past him.

"George, Martin. For the last time, I will not go back with you." His voice was as rough granite dragging along the ground, harsh and full of a world-weary resignation. "My time in the time loop has rendered me incapable of dealing with the rest of the world, I do not belong in this world. My mind is broken, as is my will." Charlemagne looked about for anyone else, not sure who the man was talking to, only to see nothing. "Yes, I will give your progeny my blessing, worthless though it may be. You, lad" Charlemagne started as he realized that _he_ was being addressed. "are to be king of these lands when you are grown. Your ancestors worry for you. They wish for me to give you some form of protection, as I have the kings in your line before you. So here."

A portion of the power the sage held broke off and draped about the future kings shoulders, becoming a cloak of midnight with a silver furred lining. It seemed to shimmer slightly in the light before his eyes.

The wizard then made a shooing motion with his hand. "Now then, lad, off with you. The cloak will grant you protection from the blade of assassins, should you need such protection, and the night shall be your ally, so long as you wear it."

Charlemagne stared for a moment before accepting that this had been the reason for his coming here, to receive the blessings of a sage as proof of his ability to rule, and starting to walk away. As he walked, the sage stared after him for a while before turning his head in the direction of the shimmering spirits he could still see floating behind him. "There, George, your progeny is protected, and Martin, yours as well. Now leave me in peace, you've got the afterlife to torture with your infernal idiocy." He spoke before returning to his contemplation of magic.

The two frowned at him before fading, contemplating how in the world they'd ever considered the cantankerous old man a mentor. Clearly he hated everyone.

As they faded however they failed to notice the faint, fond smile on Charles' face, while he thought to himself. '_Yes, get back to family waiting for you there, you've more important things to do then bother a foolish old mage who doesn't know when, or even how, to die.'_

~End.

* * *

Right then, this is the one shot and it didn't come out as well as I'd hoped... But it seems like a fair end to the story.  
Now then, Charles goes into the contemplation of magic because he grew sick of his comrades and wanted to get away from the world. He got to far away and it gave him immortality. He grew essentially rooted to the ground permanently, and his ridiculously long beard and hair cover that fact up. How did all this happen? Magic. He realized after the first century or so that he'd been foolish and had given up on life for something that would always be there, and that he'd lost his chance at a happy life. So he dedicated himself to the betterment of the kingdom of the princess he'd loved.

It's short, I admit, but there really isn't to much to work with and most of the time spent working on this was trying to find some way to extend it a bit. But whatever, I'm happy with it so ha!


End file.
